


Bewitching Strangers

by cola1320



Series: Carry on My Wayward Daughter: A Supernatural Fanfiction Collection [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-05-19 17:59:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14878595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cola1320/pseuds/cola1320
Summary: Your life is completely ordinary in the small town you grew up in until a string of supernatural murders brings two mysterious strangers into town. Instantly captivated by their sarcasm and charm, you can't help getting caught up in the middle of the case. Join Avery and the Winchesters as they save people, hunt things, and continue the family business.





	1. Chapter 1

The air was typical of a late summer night in the Delta of Arkansas, starting to become crisp but still humid with only a slight breeze to stir the occasional crop in their fields. The night was uncharacteristically bright as a fiery red-orange blazed against the black horizon. A young woman still in her nightgown barreled through the rows of cotton, running as fast as her feet could carry her. The heavy sound of her breathing filled her ears as she tried to listen for the footsteps behind her. Woody branches stung her arms and legs as they whipped past her. Suddenly a root caught her foot, yanking her face first into the soil. As she coughed up dirt, she tried frantically to orient herself. She stood, clutching her arms to her chest, turning slowly in a circle as tears mixed with the dirt on her face. A breeze startled the cotton, making it rustle menacingly. She choked down a sob, clamping hands over her mouth. To her right came the rustle again; then from her left, and from behind. An unnoticed shadow peaked through the plants and reached long tendrils towards the woman. Only the endless acres of crops heard her screams.

There was cotton, corn, and soybeans as far as the eye could see and that was how I liked it. At least that’s what I told myself anyways. When you’re raised on a farm in a small town where everyone knows your name, it’s hard to imagine little else. The community survived on the crops we raised and good old fashioned southern hospitality. The sun was warm on my face as I rode shot gun in the old beat up truck my brother owned, making its way into town. Old dirt roads turned into faded concrete as we neared the city limits. People looked up from their porches and storefronts to wave at us both, sipping sweat tea and iced lemonade. Downtown consisted of the courthouse, police station, JJ’s restaurant, the local bar, general store, and a handful of mom and pop shops. The buildings were old and dust covered, their once bright paint faded many years ago. Over a quarter of the shops had permanent for sale and closed signs listed in the cracked windows. The town hadn’t grown in decades but that didn’t mean it wasn’t surviving. Everyone was willing to lend a hand to someone in need and come harvest time all outstanding debts were paid. Yeah, I liked it in my small little backwards town; but I was allowed to yearn for adventure elsewhere.  
My daydreaming was cut short as the truck stopped in front of the diner. I hopped out and waved goodbye to my brother as he headed back to the house to help my father with the chores. JJ’s was already busy with its lunch rush as I walked through the doors and into the kitchen. The staff took a moment to holler a “good morning” my way as I tied on my waitressing smock and began waiting tables. Being home from college meant I had to pick up my old job at the local restaurant to put a little extra cash in my pocket. It was tiring work for measly pay, but it sure beat working in the hot sun all day.  
And if I was honest with myself, I enjoyed the people. The old men from the local church had breakfast and coffee every Tuesday morning, always tipping me extra because of what a beautiful young lady I had grown into. Ladies Auxiliary met twice a week for lunch to run the church and gossip about the latest news, usually centered around who was getting married and having babies next. I made sure to avoid the butt of their jokes. Poor Gilligan McCoy, whose tractors and equipment had been destroyed during the last tornado, sat in the same corner booth every day sipping his coffee while searching the newspaper for something better. I made sure to give him an extra big smile as I refilled his cup, free of charge.  
I had two plates full of food for the newlywed Green’s in my hands as the bell on the door jangled, alerting me to new customers. “Be with you in a second,” I hollered over my shoulder, expecting it to be a new wave of farmhands on a late lunch break. I was shocked to see two young tall men dressed in suits making their way to the counter. The older of the two had short cut dirty blonde hair that stood up a little in the front and a slight dusting of freckles across his cheekbones. The other was taller by almost four inches with a dark mop top hanging to his eyes, his puppy dog face making him look not much older than me.  
“What’ll it be, gentlemen?” I barely managed as emerald green eyes met mine. I had never seen such brilliant eyes before and combined with his freckles, he was one of the most handsome men I had ever seen; the other man wasn’t half bad to look at either. My loss of breath over his features must have been audible because he smiled a little before answering, revealing perfect white teeth and dimples.  
“We’re a bit new here in town. What would you recommend?” His voice was deep with an alluring tone, threatening to draw me in and make my knees go weak. He batted his eyelashes ever so slightly, causing me to gawk even more.  
I shook my head to clear it, still mesmerized by the candy apple color of his eyes. “Today’s special is chicken fried steak with gravy, but I’d recommend the burgers. Fresh beef from right here in town; there’s nothing better. And today we’ve also got Grandma’s Famous Chocolate Pie, my personal favorite thing on the menu.” I smiled my friendliest smile hoping I had at least semi convinced them.  
“Sounds delicious. We’ll take two of each,” freckles quickly said. The younger one looked like he wanted to interject, but a quick jab in the side made him smile stiffly at me. “I’m Dean and this is Sam.” He smiled charmingly, offsetting his handsome features further.  
“Nice to meet you, Dean. And Sam,” I recovered with a slight nod, “I’m Avery. Y’all sit tight and I’ll have those out in a jiff!” I hurried to give their order to the kitchen and returned to give them glasses of water. As I poured, I tried to find out more about the handsome new strangers. “So, what brings you boys to town?” I questioned, trying to sound nonchalant.  
“We’re with the FBI, investing the recent murders.” Both pulled out badges and put them away just as quickly. They didn’t look like FBI agents to me, but what did I know?  
“FBI? All the way out here?”  
“Well, we like to be thorough,” Dean said with a slight grin.  
“What can you tell us about the recent murders?” It was the first time I had heard Sam speak; he sounded more like a sweet innocent school boy than an FBI agent.  
“I don’t know if I’d call them murders, per se,” I said slowly, a tad uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going.  
“So, what would you call them then?” Dean asked gently.  
I looked around to make sure the other waitresses didn’t need help and then leaned on the counter in front of them. “Stacy went missing first, right? Well, she had an abusive boyfriend and a few dirty habits if you know what I mean. So, no one really batted an eye when she disappeared and then washed up by the river on the McCoy place a few days later. Not to mention that he skipped town and hasn’t been seen since. Then you had old man Johnson, his wife, and the granddaughter they had raised. The house caught on fire which could have been caused by her leaving the stove on or something. They were both old and forgetful. Plus, kids like to mess around in their fields; it was probably an accident. And-” I was interrupted by the cook yelling at me from the kitchen to come get the food. “One moment, guys,” I apologized, running to grab it. “There, two burgers and two slices of pie. Enjoy.” I smiled bright as I set the food down.  
Dean took a bite of pie first, closing his eyes and sighing happily as soon as it touched his lips. “Damn, that is good pie,” he mumbled between another bite.  
Sam just shook his head with a chuckle. “So, you were saying?”  
“Oh, yeah! The other night the Dane’s place goes up in flames too and when they were sifting through the rumble they couldn’t find the oldest girl. They thought she might have made it out of the house in time, but she hasn’t been found either. That’s the only one that sounded suspicious to me.” I shrugged, not sure what else to should say.  
“Is there any reason someone would wanna hurt them? Did they have any enemies?” Sam was leaned forward, seemingly very interested.  
“I mean, I don’t think so. This is tight knit community; we’re all family here. Old man Johnson owned half the money in this town, but he wasn’t a crook or nothing like that. The Dane’s were good people too. They owned the tractor supply store down the road.”  
“And there’s nothing else you can think of?” Sam pressed.  
“Nope,” I said, shaking my head. The late farmhands I had been waiting on decided to walk through the door at that moment, filling up half the place. “Joy, the second lunch rush,” I groaned, leaning up from the counter.  
“Let us know if you think of anything,” Dean smiled, handing me a business card with only a phone number on it.  
“Sure thing,” I said, taking the card and putting it in my back pocket. “Enjoy the burgers and pie!” I hollered, already walking towards the new customers. I wasn’t able to make my way back over to them before they left, but I would occasionally glance at them out of the corner of my eye as I took orders. They ate quickly, talking between bites while leaning in close to each other so as not to be overheard. They got up to leave after paying the bill and I couldn’t help but long after them. Those green eyes were so captivating, full of pain and remorse but capable of love and happiness. I wanted to know anything and everything about him.  
“Hey, Avery, the Sherriff’s take out order is ready to go.” The voice pulled me out of my thoughts, causing me to shake my head. The waitress was holding out the bags to me, waiting.  
“Yeah, okay. I’ll be back soon!” I took the food, left my apron at the door, walked out and immediately began searching for the boys. They had left at least five minutes before me and could have been anywhere by now. I sighed, a little surprised at how disappointed I was. What did I think was going to happen? This was real life, not a movie.  
Oh well, I thought as I casually strolled across the street and walked down the sidewalk a little way to the small police station. As I opened the door, I caught a few words from a conversation inside.  
“Little five-foot-three spitfire, brunette, blue eyes? Ah, well speak of the devil!” I heard Dan exclaim as I entered the lobby.  
“What are you saying about me… this time…” I trailed off, seeing who he was talking to. There stood Dean and Sam, both smiling. Maybe I was imagining that Dean looked thrilled to see me again.  
“Nothing but the truth, baby sister,” my oldest brother teased. “These fellas were telling me about what great service they received at JJ’s and I just couldn’t believe they were talking about you.” His grin said that he was rather pleased with himself as my cheeks flushed red.  
“Gave us some damn good pie,” Dean chimed in, shooting me a tiny wink that I also missed.  
“What’d they send over today, Avery?” Dan asked as I walked over to hand him the bags I was holding.  
I felt tiny standing next to Dean and even smaller looking up at Sam. They both nicely stepped out of my way so that I could reach the counter. “Chicken fried steak. It was the special,” I shrugged at Dan’s disappointed face. “I just serve the food. I don’t make it.”  
“Yeah, I guess that’s true. You need a ride home tonight? Cause I’m supposed to be on duty all night long.”  
“Um, not sure yet. It’s girl’s night out tonight, so one of them might give me a lift. I’ll figure it out,” I promised with a broad grin.  
“Alright then,” Dan said, ruffling my hair affectionately. “Go on, get. I’ve gotta at least pretend I’m a deputy around here,” he joked with a smile.  
“Nice to see you again,” I said sheepishly, waving goodbye to Dean and Sam.  
“Hopefully we’ll see each other again,” Dean called after me, teeth showing as he smiled broadly.  
The rest of my shift at JJ’s was uneventful. Once the restaurant had closed for the night, I went to the bathroom to check my hair and makeup. I shook out my ponytail, letting my dark curls hang loose. My makeup looked fresh enough so I headed down to the Waterin’ Hole to meet my friends. I was the last to arrive, causing them all to squeal while wrapping a pink boa around my neck. I laughed, ready to have a good night with them.  
The jukebox started playing Renegade by Styx and I was pulled onto the dance floor before I could tell them no. As the beat dropped, I let loose, loving the sound of my boots hitting the wood dance floor. I spun around, boa flung out behind me, when I thought I caught emerald green eyes watching me from the bar. I stopped and saw Dean staring at me, a whiskey glass barely touching his lips. His mouth upturned when he knew he had caught my eye and I couldn’t help but walk towards him.  
“Fancy meeting you here,” he grinned as I took the empty seat next to him. “Sorry to pull you away from your friends,” he apologized, leaning on the bar to look at me.  
“You probably saved me actually. Nothing good ever comes of bachelorette parties,” I laughed.  
His mouth turned into a hard line. “So, are you the lucky bride to be?”  
“Oh, good Lord, no!” I yelled a little too vehemently, hand pressed to my chest. “She is.” I pointed to a blonde in a tight dress and pink sash acting like a fool on the dance floor.  
He smiled again, chuckling at my response. “Well, I should have known then. Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, green eyes capturing mine. I nodded, my tongue all tied in knots. “What’ll it be?”  
I whistled at the bartender, smiling when he turned around. “Two of whatever he’s having,” I shouted to be heard. I received a thumbs up and sat back down on the stool. He brought our drinks over almost immediately. I took a big sip of the whiskey, feeling like I needed some liquid courage.  
“I almost didn’t recognize you without your suit on,” I joked, admiring how nice he looked in casual clothes; worn jeans, work boots, a plain t-shirt with a plaid button down and leather jacket thrown on top.  
“I figured I should try and fit in with the locals,” he teased back, his grin growing wider.  
“You pull it off nicely,” I said sincerely. I tipped back the rest of my drink when I realized what I had said, hoping he didn’t read into it.  
“You can hold your liquor,” Dean noted, obviously impressed.  
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” I said, leaning in some.  
“Is that a challenge?” One of his eyebrows raised slightly, making my knees go weak.  
“Only if you’re buying,” I caught myself flirting back.  
“Deal.” His green eyes sparkled as he ordered shots for us and I wondered what had come over me.  
Several hours and rounds of shots later, I stumbled outside, barely holding on to the wall for support. “Oh, God,” I groaned, clutching my churning stomach as I doubled over. Dean came out the door right behind me, clearly worried.  
“Hey, take it easy, Avery,” he said comfortingly, helping me upright. “I don’t do vomit so no throwing up, okay?” I groaned, my head spinning faster than a ride at the state fair. “You look terrible,” he commented, pulling my arm around his neck.  
“I’m fine,” I slurred. I went to take a step, but the pavement slid out from underneath me.  
“Yeah, okay,” he said sarcastically. “Let’s get you somewhere you can sleep this off.” His arm went behind my knees, effectively sweeping me off my feet, and carried me toward a black old school Impala. He laid me down gently in the back seat, telling me to stay awake until we got there. The words jumbled in my head and I was sure we were driving, though I didn’t know where.  
When the car stopped, I was barely conscious. I could hear Dean’s voice as he picked me up out of the car and carried me into a room. Someone else was there and they sounded angry. They argued as Dean laid me down again, until the other seemed to give up. Dean gently tugged off my boots and pulled a blanket over me. I finally lost consciousness as he gently pushed my hair back from my face and turned out the lights.


	2. Chapter 2

Bright sunlight hitting my face woke me up. I fluttered my eyelids, trying to adjust to the light. “I feel like I’ve been kicked by a horse,” I muttered to myself, running my hands over my face.  
“Well, that’s what happens when you do ten rounds with Jose Cuervo,” a deep voice commented beside me. I screeched, thinking I was alone in my bed at home. I sat up, too fast, my head feeling as if it was about to split open. “Take it easy,” Dean said as he caught me before I fell against the headboard. The light reflected off his eyes, making them even more dazzling. “Here, drink this,” he instructed, handing me a glass of water before I could say anything.  
“Thank you,” I said shyly, taking a small sip. He gestured at me to continue, so I took a few more gulps to appease him. “Where are we?” I asked, finally looking around the room. “It looks like a shitty motel room,” I said before I could stop myself. It was slightly dank, smelling of sweaty sex, and the ratty bedsheets looked like they needed a good washing. Someone barked out a laugh from the table by the door and I saw Sam grinning with a laptop in front of him.  
“Cause it is a shitty hotel room,” Dean admitted, looking somewhat insulted.  
“Cedarwood Motel? Just outside of town?”  
“Yeah, but how-” Sam started, both looking at me incredulously.  
“It’s a small town, guys,” I shrugged. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, making sure to avoid hitting Dean who was seated on the far end. “I guess you won last night, huh,” I said to him, trying to fight through the fog that was last night.  
“Well, I walked out of a bar with a pretty girl and brought her home, so I would say so.” I was insulted until I saw the grin on his face and realized he was teasing. I was about to give a snarky retort when his phone rang. A rock and roll song that I couldn’t quite place my finger on played as he dug through his pockets. “Hello? Yeah. Yeah. Alright, got it. Thanks.”  
“Who was that?” Sam asked, already closing his laptop to look over at Dean.  
“Sherriff. They’ve got another body.” Both boys were on their feet in seconds, grabbing jackets and duffle bags. I pulled my boots on quickly and made my way to the door. Sam reached the handle a second before I did, opening it for me.  
“Thanks,” I beamed, smiling warmly.  
“Don’t mention it,” he mumbled, looking down quickly to hide the slight blush creeping into his cheeks.  
The sun outside didn’t mix well with my hangover, making me wish for my sunglasses. I frowned, looking up, hoping for some cloud coverage; unfortunately, it was a clear fall day. It was going to be long walk back to town. By then the boys were loading their stuff into the Impala and getting ready to climb in. I smiled at them and began my long trek into town until a voice stopped me.  
“Avery,” Dean called after me, jogging over to where I was. “What are you doing?”  
“Well, y’all’ve got a crime scene to get to and I need to be heading back, so I figured this is where we part ways.” His head blocked the sun slightly, creating a false halo and causing me to shield my eyes with my hand.  
“Come on,” he said simply, jerking his head, already turning towards the Impala. I followed without hesitation, climbing into the back seat. A ride to town has a heck of a lot better than walking the three-mile hike in boots. Dean shut the door behind me, got into the driver’s seat, and started up the engine. I was astounded at how in tune the engine was, making a soft rumbling purr that crept up my legs. A car this age could have easily sounded like it was trying to tear itself apart from the inside out.  
“Nice car,” I commented as we pulled out of the motel parking lot. Neither boy responded, but I saw Dean’s eyes smiling in the rearview mirror. Sam was too busy rummaging around in the duffle bag at his feet to hear. He finally pulled out a pair of black Ray-Ban sunglasses.  
“Here,” he said, handing them to me. “For the hangover,” he added a little more quietly, looking away when I smiled at him.  
“Thanks, Sam,” I said sweetly, honestly touched that he would have thought of such a thing. They were big on my face, but sweet relief from the bright fall sun. It wasn’t a long drive back into town and I was able to give them directions to the McCoy farm where the body was. Three police cars had beat us there, lights flashing, and they had already placed tape around the perimeter. I shook my hair out quickly as we got out of the Impala, hoping it didn’t look as bad as I was sure it did. We were walking towards the sheriff when I saw Dan standing beside him. I groaned loudly at the dark scowl on his face when he saw who I had arrived with. He marched over, grabbed my arm, and pulled me roughly to the side.  
“What’re you doing here?” he growled, trying not to be overheard.  
“Let go of me, Dan,” I said stiffly, my temper flaring and my growing headache not helping the situation.  
“Is there a problem, Deputy?” Dean asked, his arms folded. He and Sam both were standing behind us, concerned looks on their faces.  
I saw the vein in Dan’s head begin pulsing as he spun on Dean. “Yeah! Who do you think you are, coming into our town, taking advantage of our hospitality, and making off with my baby sister, huh?” He was roaring by the end of it, drawing the attention of everyone present. My brother and Dean were almost nose-to-nose, neither looking to back down.  
“Dan, stop it!” I yelled, stepping in front of him and pushing against his chest with all my might. He teetered back a step as I pushed him again. “Get this into your thick head! I was drunk last night, and he was nice enough not to leave me passed out on the floor! So back off and cool it!” I shoved him again for good measure.  
“I’d listen to her if I were you,” Dean smirked, a hunger to fight still lingering in his eyes.  
“Dean,” Sam pleaded quietly, trying to keep him from doing something stupid.  
Dan gritted his teeth, balling his fists at his side. Finally, he let out a small breath through his nose. “Agents, you can go see the sheriff,” he spat vilely. “And you,” he said, turning on me, “you go sit your butt down on my cruiser and don’t move. I’m taking you back with me once this is all taken care of.” He pointed me to his car, anger still rolling off him in waves. I scowled back at him, but knew there was nothing else I could do.  
The boys were already talking to the sheriff and heading to investigate the body. They had her covered with a sheet, but I could see where blood was beginning to soak through it. Poor girl, I thought; she was only a few years younger than me. What if this had happened to me? I glanced over at Dan, who was still giving Dean a scowl as they examined the area, wondering if all he could think of was me when he saw the Dane girl. There was no telling how long I would have to wait, so I stretched out on the hood of Dan’s car, planning to take a nap.  
I didn’t know how long I had been asleep, but my headache had faded and someone was shouting at me.  
“Hey, Daisy Duke, time to go!” Dan was yelling as he walked towards the cruiser.  
“Screw you, Dan,” I mumbled as I sat up slowly, sunglasses falling off my face.  
Sam was walking back to the Impala and heard my snarky comment. “Your brother is a real-”  
“Prick?” I suggested sourly, sliding down the hood.  
Sam laughed, obviously surprised. “I was gonna say piece of work, but that works too.”  
“Oh well,” I shrugged, handing him back his glasses. “Isn’t that what older brothers are for?”  
“Uh, yeah, I guess so,” he said, looking back at Dean who was wrapping up with the sheriff.  
“Avery, now!” my brother called, already half-way into the car.  
“Coming,” I huffed. Sam walked away with a small half wave in my direction that I returned. As Dan pulled the cruiser out, I caught Dean’s green eyes as he stood beside the Impala. They sparkled in the fading sunlight and I almost thought I saw him wink at me.  
Dan hardly spoke as we drove, full darkness having descended by the time we finally reached home. I slammed the car door with all my might, more perturbed at his attitude than anything else. He cursed as I walked up the steps and inside the house where my mother was starting on dinner. I strolled into the kitchen, immediately heading for the refrigerator.  
“You didn’t come home last night,” my mother chided as I dug through the drawers, looking for a snack. Her back was to me as she chopped vegetables near the sink, not bothering to turn around.  
“Momma, I’m twenty-three years old. I think I’m allowed to stay out all night.” I didn’t mean to sass her, but I couldn’t let go of my frustration at Dan just yet. I shut the fridge heavily, settling on an apple.  
“Did you at least have fun?” she huffed, not pleased with my attitude.  
“Uh-huh,” I responded, biting my lip a little as I thought of Dean gazing over his glass at me last night. My mother was staring directly at me, her eyebrow raised. My eyes widened in embarrassment as she caught me daydreaming.  
“You met a boy last night,” she said, wooden spoon pointed at my face. I hurriedly bit into the apple in my hand, trying to avoid meeting her gaze. I couldn’t lie to her and she would know either way. “Please tell me you were safe.” She turned back to the stove, shaking her head at me.  
“Mom,” I moaned dramatically, “it wasn’t like that.”  
“If you say so, dear,” she said flippantly over her shoulder. I started to protest, not wanting her to think I’d had a one-night stand, but she shushed me. “I don’t want to hear it. Now start browning that meat. The boys will be in before too long, ready for supper.” I grumbled under my breath but did what she said regardless.  
Dinner was relatively quiet as my family sat around our dining table. My father griped that I hadn’t helped with chores and it was therefore my fault that our milk cow had nearly ruptured an udder. Dan, of course, continued to glare daggers at me as he angrily ate. He must have told my other brother because I noticed that he was giving me sideways glances as well. There was a lull in conversation as my mother began clearing the dishes from the table and Dan seized the opportunity.  
“So, Pop, d’you hear about Avery’s new boyfriend?” He gave me a devilish grin as he spoke to which I responded with a swift kick to his shin. The fierce expression on my face told him to be quiet, but he only returned the look.  
“I heard it was two,” my other brother snickered as he took a drink.  
“Jacob!” I hissed violently, driving the toe of my boot into his shin as well. He cursed, loudly, and began yelling at me which I returned, causing Dan to join in as well.  
“Stop it!” My father silenced the three of us with a firm slap on the table, the dishes rattling lightly. “What is this about?” he demanded, gaze fixed on me.  
“I caught her cozying up to those two new FBI agents in town,” Dan responded for me, all too eager to share. “Even showed up to the crime scene with them this afternoon.”  
“It wasn’t like that!” I swore, trying to cut of Dan before he could say anymore.  
“And I don’t want to hear it!” my father bellowed over both of us as we squabbled. I could feel angry tears beginning to prick my eyes that I tried to will away.  
“Avery, come help me with the rest of the dishes,” my mother calmly called from kitchen, no doubt trying to diffuse the situation before it got any worse. I thankfully took the out she was offering me, running to the kitchen while wiping furiously at my eyes.  
“It wasn’t like that, I swear,” I complained to her after I was out of earshot.  
“Then what was it like, dear?”  
“It was innocent,” I said, knowing that nothing had happened, nor had I intended for it to. “And stupid,” I laughed, thinking of how drunk I had been. “And a little romantic,” I added, the way Dean had swooped me up in his arms. “They’re just so infuriating,” I fumed, referring to my two idiot brothers.  
My mother laughed at my frustration which made me scowl. “They’re you’re brothers, baby. It’s their job to be irritating. It’s how they show that they care.” She smiled softly, the expression letting me know that she was on my side. “Now take that pie in there and I’ll have a talk with them later.”  
“Thanks, momma,” I mumbled as I took the plate from her hands.  
“You’re welcome, baby.” She kissed my lightly on the cheek and pushed me towards the dining room.  
She was true to her word, and no one made any mention of the previous conversation the rest of the night. I read a book in the family room while the others watched TV. One by one they all retired for the evening, saying goodnight as they went. I trailed up the stairs to my own room only a few minutes after Jacob did the same. I happily shrugged out of the clothes I had worn for the past two days and donned a tank top with matching sleep shorts. I crawled into bed, my side lamp still on, intent on finishing the last one hundred pages of my book before I went to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

I woke up suddenly having trouble breathing and coughing. I jumped out of bed, realizing there was dark smoke hanging in the air. I pulled the neckline of my shirt up over my mouth trying to limit the amount of smoke I inhaled and made my way to the door. From my room on the second story, I could see the red-orange color of fire consuming the downstairs. I ran to Dan’s room right next to mine, screaming his name, but as I reached for it, the door closed and locked itself. I pounded on it, then sprinted to my other brother’s room. It too closed and locked me out. Tears were pouring down my face as the smoke stung my eyes. I ran lastly to my parent’s room, near the top of the stairs, but their door was locked too.  
“Momma! Daddy!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, beating at the door with my fists. I sank down to the floor, lightheaded from the smoke, watching the fire start crawling towards the first step. “I… have… to get… up,” I told myself, pushing off the floor, coughing violently. I ran as fast as I dared down the stairs heading straight for the front door; but the flames roared up, consuming it. A wall of fire materialized, pushing me towards the kitchen and out the side door. A flood of smoke followed me as I burst through it, tripping down the porch steps. Dirt filled my mouth and I sat on my hands and knees trying to catch a full breath without coughing.  
I looked back at my childhood home through teary eyes as it went up in flames. A figure dressed in black stood on the porch by the door I had just come through. For a second, I was hopeful it was part of my family; but something seemed off, wrong, as it waltzed down the porch steps. I scrambled on the dirt, trying to get my legs underneath me. The rocks buried in the soil tore at my bare feet as I fled into the corn field. I knew the field by heart but in my panic, I couldn’t think of where to go. So, I ran as fast and hard as I could make myself, still coughing up smoke every few steps.  
My foot caught on a root, pulling me down into the dirt. All the breath in my lungs was knocked out of me, leaving me gasping for air on ground. I tried to take a deep breath to force air into my chest, but it left me coughing instead. I stood on shaky legs, attempting to listen over the sound of my ragged breathing. The corn rustled all around me and I couldn’t tell if it was from the wind or not. My heart pounded, waiting for something, anything, as the noise got louder. Tears blurred my vision as they came down in waves, streaking my face. A figure came hurtling out of the corn stalks to my right, grabbing my wrist as I tried to run.  
“Avery!” the deep voice boomed, grabbing my attention.  
“Dean?” There he stood, plaid shirt and leather jacket, with Sam only a few seconds behind him. I broke down, unable to control myself at the sight of familiar faces.  
“Shhh,” Dean whispered as he pulled me tightly against his chest. He shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders, holding me as I sobbed uncontrollably. He gently ran a hand over my hair, trying to calm me any way he could. “Did you find anything?” he asked Sam, his strong arms still holding me.  
“No. I lost it not far into the field. We probably spooked it.”  
“It won’t stay spooked long,” he said, head swiveling, trying to see through the corn. “We need to get her outta here before it comes back.”  
“I’ll call the sheriff. That should buy us some time.”  
“Yeah, go on, Sammy. We’ll be right behind you.” Dean put his hands on either side of my face and titled it upward, so I had to meet his eyes. “Whatever you saw tonight, whatever you think you saw, you don’t speak a word of it. You understand?” I nodded, sniffling, scared by the fierceness in his hard, green eyes. “Good.” He used a thumb to wipe a few tears off my face before wrapping an arm around my shoulder. Together we walked through the corn, back towards my burning home.  
After a few minutes, the corn broke and we stepped onto the dirt driveway. I could hear the police sirens on their way as we walked to the Impala. Dean had me sit in the passenger seat with my back to the house, so I couldn’t see the flames. A firetruck came barreling down the road after what seemed like an eternity, immediately trying to put out the fire. The sheriff was next to arrive, along with half the police department. After a few questions, he decided it would be better if I was moved to the station, to get away from the scene. The boys followed behind us in the Impala, insisting they could sort through the rubble in the morning.  
The sheriff was nothing but cordial, but I hardly noticed in my numb state. I felt like I only heard a third of his questions while repeating the same thing. “I woke up coughing. I ran outside. Someone chased me into the cornfield. I didn’t see who. The agents found me. I woke up coughing. I ran outside.” Over and over I said it, wishing that was what had really happened; hoping the more I said it, the truer it would be. Eventually, the sheriff gave up, patted me on the shoulder, and said I was free to go. He would call if he had any other questions; there was nothing else he could do. I had no next of kin and I was old enough to take care of myself.  
Dean and Sam offered to watch after me and escorted me outside. A friend was there waiting, who handed me clothes and shoes, telling me how sorry she was. I didn’t see her face as I took the things and climbed into the backseat of the Impala. No one said a word as Dean drove us to the motel, but I could see concerned eyes watching me through the rearview mirror.  
I didn’t even notice when we arrived until Dean stuck his head into the backseat, gently pulling me out. My knees buckled as I tried to step out and he scooped me up without hesitation. Sam locked the door behind us once we crossed the threshold and shut the blinds. When Dean set me softly on the bed, I pulled my knees to my chin and laid my head on them.  
“Avery,” he said gently, “tell us what happened.”  
“I woke up coughing. I ran outside,” I started, staring off into space.  
“No, Avery, what really happened.”  
“Someone chased me into the cornfield. I didn’t see who,” I continued, my voice starting to crack.  
“Dean, she’s in shock,” Sam insisted. “It can wait.”  
“No, it can’t. She needs to tell it while it’s still fresh.”  
“I woke up coughing. I ran outside. Someone-”  
“Yeah, someone chased you. Who?” Dean was clearly getting frustrated. “Who, god damnit?” he yelled.  
“Dean!” Sam roared, snapping me out of my daze.  
“Where am I?” I mumbled, blinking back the haze in my mind. “What happened?” Images began flashing through my head until I saw Dean standing in a cornfield, then sitting on the bed in front of me. “Oh, oh no.” I started shaking my head, hands going to my mouth. “They’re… they’re all gone,” I sobbed.  
“Come here, kiddo,” Dean said in a hoarse voice, pulling me against him again. Sam’s eyes were filled with sadness and sympathy as he watched me cry. After a few moments, I pushed away from Dean and wiped my eyes.  
“Why were you there? What were you two doing there?” I asked, questions starting to run through my head.  
“Tell us what you saw and we’ll answer all your questions. Promise,” he added when I gave him an incredulous look.  
“You’re gonna think I’m crazy,” I said, dropping my eyes.  
“Try us,” he said with a grim smile. Something in his emerald eyes made me believe him.  
“Alright, well, here goes nothing. I woke up choking on smoke. So, I went into the hall and tried to wake my family up. But every time I went to the door, it shut on its own and I heard it lock.” I stopped, waiting for them to laugh or mock me. They just stared instead, wanting me to continue. “I didn’t have any choice but to go downstairs and try to get out. I was gonna run out the front door and this wall of fire came out of nowhere. It covered the door and the rest of the downstairs, so I had to go out the side door. I tripped down the porch stairs and when I got up, there was someone standing there. They chased me into the cornfield and then you guys showed up.”  
“It’s witches,” Dean said, turning to Sam, arm outstretched. “Pay up, Sammy.” Sam’s mouth formed a hard line, obviously not impressed with his timing. “Come on. A deal’s a deal,” he insisted as Sam slapped fifty dollars into his hand. Dean thumbed through the bills before shoving them into his pocket. He turned back to me, smiling jovially.  
“Witches?” I said, not believing it for a second. “Witches? Really? I’m nearly murdered and that’s what you’ve come up with? You two are crazy,” I insisted. They both looked at me, not seeming concerned that I thought they were mad men. “Then again I’m the one who saw doors magically shut.” I threw my arms up, giving into the madness.  
“Who’s crazy now?” Dean smirked. I scowled back at him, not appreciating his attempted humor. “Sweetheart, the world just got a whole lot crazier,” he confessed, shaking his head a little.  
“Y’all aren’t really FBI, are you?”  
“No, we’re hunters,” Sam answered.  
“Hunters? What do you hunt?”  
“Ghosts, ghouls, vampires, werewolves, you name it. If it ain’t natural, we gank it,” Dean said proudly. “Sam and Dean Winchester at your service,” he added smiling.  
“So, you’re brothers. Thank goodness something actually makes sense around here,” I sighed. “What is that, your slogan?” I scoffed at the cheesy line he had said.  
“More like saving people, hunting things,” Sam admitted.  
“The family business? That’s not much better,” I laughed lightly, which almost turned into a sob. “Well, thank you both for kinda saving my life tonight,” I said, standing awkwardly, “I appreciate it,” and handing Dean his jacket back.  
“What? Are you leaving?” Sam asked, confused.  
“Oh, Lord no. I’m going to take a shower in that nasty motel bathroom and use all the hot water. And when I come out, we’re gonna revisit this witch thing.” I gave them both a strained smile as I opened the door and closed it behind me.  
“I like her,” I heard Dean say cheerfully as I turned the water on. “She’s got spirit.” It sounded like Sam snorted in response.  
I stripped all my clothes off, thankful to get rid of the sticky material. My face was covered in soot and dirt that had been smudged by tears, my hair still looking like bedhead. I stepped into the shower, instantly succumbing to the hot water. I let it gently rinse the dirt off my skin as I tried to push the night’s events from my mind. But the more I started to scrub at the stuck-on dirt, the more it came flooding back until I was balled up in the bottom of the tub, sobbing.  
So, I let myself cry for my lost family; for my brothers who had ever only protected me and for my parents who had tried so hard to give me every advantage in life they could. I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore, and the water started to become tepid. As I wiped away the last tear, I vowed to myself that I would find the son of a bitch who had done this. Standing, I quickly rinsed out my hair and shut the water off.  
Steam seeped out of the bathroom as I stepped out in a light grey V-neck and jeans, toweling off my soaking wet hair. Sam was busy pressing keys on his laptop while Dean field stripped one of the nicest pistols I had ever seen.  
“You good?” he asked, glancing up briefly as he snapped the barrel back in place. I thought I saw him do a double take, but I couldn’t be sure  
“Yeah, I think so,” I answered, a steel gaze fixing in my eyes. “Tell me about witches,” I said, taking a seat across from Sam.  
“Witches are normal people, like you and me,” he started, after giving his brother a questioning look.  
“Except they sold their soul to a demon for a little hocus pocus and they tend to have a real attitude problem,” Dean butted in. “Not to mention they enjoy spraying bodily fluids around.” He shuddered, a disgusted look on his face.  
“Okay?” I said, eyebrow raised. “Demons are real now too. And I assume witches aren’t green with long noses?”  
“No warts,” Sam confirmed.  
“Alright, so who’s playing Bette Midler then?”  
“We don’t know,” Dean said, taking a deep breath.  
“Well, how are we supposed to find them then?” I asked, a little confused.  
“Still working on it,” Sam grimaced.  
“Awesome,” I huffed, rolling my eyes. “Then how can I help?”  
“By getting your little butt in that bed and letting us handle it,” Dean said without hesitating, looking down the sights of his pistol.  
“I don’t think so,” I balked.  
“Avery,” Sam said softly from across the table, “you’re still running on adrenaline and you’re going to crash eventually. Go get some sleep and we’ll let you know when we find something.” I looked between the two of them, wanting nothing more than to help. Dean met my eyes and nodded, agreeing with his brother.  
“Fine,” I conceded. “But the second you find something,” I threatened them, finger pointed as menacingly as I could manage. Sam raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin on his face while Dean started cleaning the twin to the pistol he had been working on earlier. I climbed into the bed on the far side of the room and pulled the covers up to my neck, my back to the boys. I didn’t feel tired, but I drifted off to sleep almost instantly as my head touched the pillow. The sweet scent of whoever’s bed I was in filled my nose, comforting and relaxing. I fell asleep to the faint clacking of keys and soft rock music playing in the background.

A soft touch startled me awake. I groaned, rolling on my side while pushing my mess of curls out of my face. Sam was perched on the edge of the bed, a small grin on his face.  
“What? What is it?” I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. He was about to say something when Dean barged through the door.  
“Good morning, sunshine,” he belted with a broad smile when he saw that I was awake. I sarcastically smiled back, not enjoying his wakeup call. “Hey, I come bearing gifts,” he added, holding up paper bags with JJ’s written on them.  
“Wait, what time is it?” I scrambled out of the bed, nearly knocking Sam over, and grabbed the clock sitting on the bedside table. The red numbers blinked that it was a little past noon. “You promised,” I whined, turning on Sam and giving him a dejected look.  
“We haven’t really found much,” Sam mumbled, looking away ashamed.  
“Yeah, you’re welcome, Sleeping Beauty,” Dean said around a mouthful of food. He tossed me a foil wrapped burger right as I reached for a pillow to throw at him. He gave me a cheeky smile as I glared back. I took a deep breath and pushed my anger aside as I roughly pulled a chair out from underneath his legs, giving him a sneer when he snorted at me.  
“Play nice you two,” Sam chuckled, grabbing a burger and joining us at the table.  
“Oh, uh, that cute blonde at the diner said they’re covering your shifts until you can come back,” Dean said, popping a fry into his mouth.  
“How nice of them.” I rolled my eyes, not even wanting to think of the grease bucket I worked at. “Alright, well, catch me up since you decided not to last night.”  
“We’ve gone over the case files dozens of times,” Sam said, pulling out his laptop. “Nothing connects the victims except that they’re all young women in their early twenties. And only the last three have involved house fires.” He looked at me over the top of his laptop. “Is there anything else you can tell us about the case or the girls?” he pleaded.  
“I mean, I don’t know what to tell you. I knew all of them. We went to the same high school and I graduated with Stacy. Nothing stands out to me that ties them all together, but I could probably answer any question you have.”  
Dean stood and began pacing around the room, still munching on fries. “So, what do we know? The first girl was probably in the wrong place at the wrong time; gave it its first taste of blood. It goes looking for another girl and smokes everyone in the house this time. Third victim, it again sends the whole house up in flames and keeps the girl for a few days. And then there’s you,” he finished, turning to look at me.  
“Something seems off to me,” I thought out loud.  
“Like what?” Sam asked.  
“Well, why did it burn the Johnson girl? It wanted fresh flesh every time but that one.” Something did seem off about that fact; I just couldn’t place my finger on it.  
“It might have been an accident?” Sam suggested.  
“No, she’s right,” Dean said. “The first girl was the accident. Anything after that was meticulously planned. Not to mention the body was found still in bed.”  
“It’s not after the girls themselves. It’s after something about them,” I reasoned.  
“Blood,” Dean and Sam said simultaneously.  
“Blood is used in tons of spells. We just need to figure out which one,” Sam explained, already typing away. “Hey, check this out,” he said after a few moments. “There’s an abrogation spell that requires the blood of virgins; most commonly using young post-adolescent females,” he finished with a grim frown.  
“Always with the virgins,” Dean muttered, disgusted.  
“Virgins?” I said incredulously. “Yeah, those girls were virgins and I’m a cow,” I scoffed, laughing. Both boys stared at me with confused looks on their faces.  
“Wanna explain?” Dean asked, eyebrow raised.  
“Those girls are what I like to call angels on the streets, devils in the sheets; if you catch my drift.”  
“That’s why it kept killing. The spell didn’t work,” Sam said in disbelief, leaning back in his chair as he understood.  
“So, are you; a virgin that is?” Dean questioned me, a hint of a smile on his face.  
“That’s none of your business!” I snapped defensively.  
“I’ll take that as a yes.” A full-blown grin broke out on his face as heat rushed into my cheeks.  
“Dean, leave the poor girl alone,” Sam interjected on my behalf. I gave him a small smile so he knew that I appreciated it. “This particular spell ‘turns back complex mechanical processes and resets equipment and machinery’,” he continued, scrolling on his computer.  
“And that requires the blood of a virgin?” Dean asked, skeptical.  
“Yeah. The blood has to be anointed over the machines for it to work. The rest of the ingredients are fairly common,” Sam shrugged. “It wouldn’t take an adept witch to do this.”  
“Ah, so we’re looking for a Sabrina,” Dean commented.  
“Why does that matter?” I piped up.  
“Older, more powerful witches are harder to kill. They can use their magic to protect them. But amateurs don’t know as much,” Sam explained.  
“A simple gunshot or knife wound can take them down,” Dean added. “So, you ready to be bait?” he grinned at me.  
“Excuse me?” I squeaked, nearly choking on my burger. Sam patted me on the back while I coughed, giving his brother an exasperated look.  
“We’re not using her as bait, Dean!”  
“Why not?” he countered. “We know what its after. She’s the virgin that got away. It’ll come looking for her eventually, Sammy; we might as well get the drop on it.”  
“No, Dean,” Sam answered protectively, rising from his seat to stand between me and Dean.  
“I’ll do it,” I said from behind Sam, knowing I was going to regret this decision. Dean smirked happily at his brother.  
“Avery,” Sam pleaded, giving me a sad pair of puppy dog eyes.  
“Sam, he’s right. What’re the chances it doesn’t come looking for me?” I gave him a weak half smile when he sighed, knowing there was no going back now.  
“Let’s gank a witch,” Dean beamed, already snapping a magazine into his pistol. I chuckled a little at how excited he seemed while Sam just shook his head.


	4. Chapter 4

We ended up deciding to take me back to the ruins of my former home right before sunset. The witch would either be hanging around there waiting for me to come back, or it was already watching and would meet us there. The boys dropped me off in front of what remained of the house and parked the Impala close to the tree line behind it. They were out of sight but could still see me for the most part. I was armed with a large hunting knife, tucked into the waistband of my jeans.  
The police had long since sorted through the rubble and left, leaving only caution tape behind. I could barely breath as I ducked beneath the tape to walk around, memories trying to resurface with each step. In the front yard, stood the tall oak that held the tree swing where my brothers and I had played as children. I had climbed that tree countless times and I was sure my initials were still carved into one of the highest branches.  
I walked slowly towards the barn, retracing a path I had known all my life. The paint had faded long ago on the old wooden structure as I rubbed my palm over the door. I pulled it open, immediately hit with the familiar smell of animals, hay, and feed. A few of the horses knickered at a friendly face as I stepped inside. Sitting off to the side, right where I had left them, were my favorite pair of boots. I kicked off the old loaner tennis shoes I had on and slipped my feet into the worn leather. At least I had something important to me that survived.  
After petting a few of the animals, I walked outside again, suddenly very antsy. The sun was setting rapidly and taking the last few minutes of light with it. If we waited any longer, it was going to tip things into the witch’s hands. As I came around the corner, I saw an old beat up truck sitting in the driveway that hadn’t been there earlier.  
“Hello?” I called, not seeing anyone sitting inside the cab. “Hello?” I said again, louder this time, the hair on the back of my neck beginning to stand up. I grabbed the hilt of the knife, just in case. The fields to my right rustled, causing me to jerk that way suddenly. The rustling followed the edge of the field until it disappeared behind the house, suddenly stopping. I had turned in a small circle, following the noise. When it stopped, I turned back to the truck where someone was now standing.  
“Oh, Jesus!” I exhaled in shock, clutching my chest. “It’s just you, Gilligan. You scared the crap outta me.” Gilligan McCoy was a regular at the restaurant and lived just a few miles over from our house. He was in his mid-thirties and we were familiar with each other. He came to the house at least once a week looking for odd jobs to help pay the bills.  
“Sorry, Avery,” he drawled, hands in his pockets, “I didn’t mean to scare ya. I thought ya heard me pull up.” He was slowly walking towards me, a dark look in his eyes that made me uncomfortable.  
“It’s okay,” I said, taking a step back to put distance between us. “What’re you doing here so late?” My hand slipped down to my waist where it gripped tightly around the hilt of the knife.  
“Oh, well, I was just drivin’ by and saw a strange car turn down the road. Wanted to make sure they weren’t stealin’ nothin’.” He shrugged innocently, still striding towards me.  
“Everything’s fine. You can go home now,” I told him, my voice starting to shake. He didn’t seem to hear me, his pace quickening as he got closer. “Stay back,” I warmed him, pulling the blade out of its hidden sheath. His hand swatted the air and the blade flew from my hand, landing in the dirt a few yards away. He was nearly to me now and my feet seemed glued in place. “Dean! Sam!” I yelled as loud as I could, hoping they would hear me.  
“Sleep,” Gilligan commanded, tapping two fingers between my eyes. I fell to the ground, immediately losing consciousness.

I awoke in an old barn, my hands tied above my head. I was dangling from a hook with my feet barely scraping the ground. I could see Gilligan in a far corner with his back to me, preparing what looked like ingredients while chanting. I looked at my rope restraints, trying to see if there was some way I could escape them. I pulled and tugged with all my might, but nothing happened.  
“Damn it,” I mumbled to myself, angry that I had let myself become a damsel in distress.  
“Strugglin’ won’t get ya anywhere,” Gilligan said smugly, carrying a large bowl as he came towards me. “The virgin who got away,” he drawled, walking in a circle around me.  
“How are you so sure?” I spat back. “You killed three other girls and look where that’s gotten you.” I tried to wiggle away from his touch as his hand ran down my cheek.  
“You’re different, Avery,” he called my bluff. “I know ya and you’re different from them.” He pulled a knife out of his back pocket, reaching for my arm.  
“You don’t have to do this,” I pleaded with him, trying my hardest to shy away from the blade.  
“Yeh, I do!” he screamed violently. “Because of the people in this town, like ya daddy, who offered me sympathy and not a real lick of help! How’m I supposed to survive if I can’t farm, huh?” The edge of his knife bit into the skin of my forearm, making it weep crimson drops that he collected in the bowl. I couldn’t help but whimper at the pain.  
“You bastard,” I said through clenched teeth. “We gave you work every time you came begging for it.”  
“But ya never hired me on as a hand with steady pay!” he yelled back, slicing my other forearm. This time, I spit in his face as he collected the blood. He laughed manically as he wiped away the spittle. “You’ll pay for that, brat. But not till I suck ya dry and get all my machines back in order.” He went to make another cut, higher up my arm, when Dean and Sam burst through the barn doors.  
“Hey, hands off the virgin!” Dean shouted, gun aimed directly at Gilligan’s chest. The knife cut deep into my arm as a startled Gilligan whipped around at the sound of the boys. He scrambled behind me, cold metal fixed across my throat.  
“Come any closer and she dies!” Gilligan threatened.  
“I doubt that,” Dean retorted back, gun still raised. “You’ve had rotten luck trying to find virgins. You won’t throw her away that easily.”  
“Dean, we need to hurry. She’s bleeding out,” Sam whispered to his brother, watching the crimson that was quickly soaking my clothing and making me light headed. They both made a few steps towards me and the knife at my throat pressed harder. I let out a soft whine as it pushed against my windpipe.  
“Yer killin’ her,” Gilligan warned again, still cowering behind me.  
“Then come out and fight like a man!” Dean challenged. I heard Gilligan growl deep in his throat, offended by the taunt. “Coward!” he added, seeing that he had upset the witch.  
“I ain’t no-” Gilligan started, taking a step around me to have a go at Dean. Both boys put a bullet through his chest the second he presented a clear target. I shrieked, recoiling instantly at the loud noise.  
“Go take care of her, Sammy. I’ve got him,” Dean commanded, his gun still trained on the body now lying motionless on the ground. Sam hurriedly tucked his pistol into his waistband, already starting to jog over to me. He easily lifted me off the hook and sat me down gently, my blood now covering his hands.  
“Great timing, guys,” I croaked softly, the edges of my vision going blurry. Sam pulled a knife from his jacket and made quick work of the rope around my wrists. He then shed his jacket and outer flannel, tearing the cloth into long strips of bandages.  
“Is that a hint of sarcasm I hear?” Dean lightly teased, having confirmed that the threat was gone. I laughed weakly, wincing as his brother tied a makeshift bandage around the deepest cut on my arm.  
“This one’s gonna need stitches,” Sam said worriedly, tying another piece of cloth around the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. He wrapped the other two cuts quickly and pulled his jacket back on.  
“Well, let’s go then,” Dean said, carefully wrapping one of my arms around his neck. Sam did the same and they were able to easily drag me out to the Impala. The edges of my vision were dark and I could feel the cuts continuing to leak despite the bandages, but I was assured it wasn’t life threatening. The ride back involved me lying prone in the backseat with both boys reminding me to stay awake every few seconds.  
When we got to the motel, they carried me in the same way and deposited me in a chair. Sam immediately began rummaging around in his duffle while Dean grabbed a bottle of bourbon off the counter. He pulled up a chair beside me, handing me the bottle.  
“Drink up, kiddo,” he told me with a grim smile.  
“What for?” I asked curiously, taking a large gulp despite my fuzzy vision. The liquid burned the back of my throat, distracting me briefly from the pain coursing down my arms.  
“Just trust me,” he said, stealing the bottle for a sip of his own.  
“How good are you with pain?” Sam questioned, walking over with gauze, needle, and thread in his hands.  
“Oh, god,” I moaned, downing another drink of bourbon, knowing exactly what he meant. I laid my arm across the table with my bicep exposed so that he could reach the wound. I winced as the younger Winchester poured some of the alcohol on the deepest cut to cleanse it. Next, he disinfected the needle and thread, and then his hands. He let out a deep breath and carefully began stitching up my arm. I grimaced, biting down hard on my lip to keep from crying.  
“Hey, Avery, focus on me,” Dean demanded, drawing my attention away from the pain. I craned my neck in his direction, trying to blink away the moisture in my eyes. “You did a good job out there tonight.” His green eyes were sincere as they held mine.  
“Why, Dean, is that a compliment?” I teased, the pain evident in my voice.  
“Yeah, uh, I guess so,” he admitted, laughing lightly. “Even if you were just bait.” He grinned broadly, enjoying pestering me.  
“Well, thanks. You weren’t too bad yourself.” I grinned back despite my discomfort, his smile infectious. He laughed until he heard me gasp, worry instantly flashing across his face. “Damn,” I hissed through clenched teeth, the needle biting the tender skin on the underside of my arm.  
“Done,” Sam finally said, tying the last knot.  
“Not bad,” I commented, inspecting the eight thick stitches in my arm before he wrapped them with gauze. “This is a pretty normal thing for you two, isn’t it?” I realized, knowing stitches didn’t look this professional without plenty of practice. I held out my other arm so that he could properly bandage the other cuts.  
“Just another Tuesday night,” Dean answered with a sarcastic grin.  
“The things you must’ve seen,” I wondered aloud, seeing the hardened look on the boys’ faces. They had taken care of Gilligan without so much as a scratch on them. How many other types of creatures had they slaughtered or countless victims saved? What if I could become like that; take down the real monster responsible for my family’s death? “I want in,” I said firmly, looking directly at Dean.  
He almost spit out a mouthful of bourbon, coughing as he struggled to swallow. “What? Uh-, hm? Excuse me?” he barely managed, giving me an incredulous look.  
“Avery, you don’t understand what this life is like,” Sam started, concern on his face.  
“What don’t I understand?” I protested, standing up. “That people get hurt?” I pointed to the white gauze on my arm that was already spotting with crimson. “That people die?” I said, raising my voice slightly. I choked back a tear, thinking of my family and even allowing an image of Gilligan to flash in front of my eyes.  
“Avery...,” Sam muttered, dropping his head, knowing I was right.  
“You’re too young,” Dean suddenly interjected, as if it was his first thought.  
I raised my eyebrow in annoyance at him. “Sam, when were you born?” I asked without looking away from Dean.  
“May, nineteen eighty-three,” the younger brother answered slowly.  
“June of eighty-three,” I smirked, waiting to hear the next objection. Dean looking visibly surprised when he realized how old I was. “Just cause I look like I’m twelve doesn’t mean that I actually am,” I huffed, rolling my eyes.  
“You don’t-” he began to counter.  
“I know how to handle a knife and a gun,” I interrupted, knowing it would be his next protest. “The rest you can teach me.” I shrugged as he thought about it. Sam was grinning slightly, warming up to the idea of taking me along. Dean, however, crossed his arms, mouth set in a firm line. He was harder to convince than his younger brother. “Dean, there’s nothing left for me here. I won’t stay here and try to farm by myself. I wasn’t meant for a small town like this. I want to be out there hunting things and saving people; like you. Please,” I begged, giving him the best pair of puppy dog eyes I could manage. “At least give me a chance. If it doesn’t work out, then I’ll come back home; no questions asked.”  
He glared at me for a long moment before releasing a deep breath, letting his head tilt slightly. His mouth softened as he extended his hand towards me. “Deal,” he said sternly, his green eyes capturing mine.  
“Deal,” I answered, clasping his hand, an ecstatic grin on my face. Sam was beaming too, just as happy as me. “So, someone wanna let me borrow a shirt?” I asked, holding out the edges of mine to show the large section of blood staining it.  
“I’m gonna regret this,” Dean mumbled, throwing a plain black t-shirt at me. I caught it, grinning. I turned to an empty corner, drawing my ruined shirt over my head. “But maybe not,” I heard him whisper as I tugged the other shirt on to cover the bare skin of my back. I giggled at how large it was, easily dwarfing my already small figure. “Alright, short stuff,” he teased, rolling his eyes, “time to get a move on.”  
“Hey!” I shouted, offend. He simply smirked back, enjoying my reaction. “We’re leaving tonight?” I questioned, watching as the boys began to pack their things.  
“It’s best to make ourselves scarce,” they told me, already carrying things out to the Impala.  
The three of us climbed into the car and Dean turned on the engine. As we pulled out of the motel parking lot, Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd played softly on the radio. I watched the distant lights of my hometown fade as we drove down the dark highway and I knew I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t going to miss it. My whole life had revolved around the little town until just a few days ago. But once my whole world had been turned upside down, I wasn’t tied to the place anymore. As the song kicked over into the chorus before the guitar solo, I turned to look at the long road ahead of us. I took a deep breath, realizing that I finally felt like I could breathe freely. I smiled, ready to start my new life as a hunter with the Winchester brothers.


End file.
